I Will Be the Greatest Knight

"I don't think I've seen anyone as excited as you to wake up early," Leif commented as he and Irene walked down the stairs and headed towards the practice field where other apprentices were starting to line up. 

"I have been awake for a while," she admitted. "Weren't you excited for your first day as an apprentice?"

"I didn't become an apprentice because I wanted to," he insisted. "My father made me come here and, well, it turns out I like it quite a lot." 

"You were able to come straight in as an apprentice, too?" she asked in amazement. 

She began ruminating over which noble households he was possibly from—a family with a decent history as knights…

"Don't make assumptions," he stopped her, breaking her out of her obvious contemplation. "I was killing a dire wolf a few towns over when the Duke found me."

"That's impressive," she complimented. "I have never even seen a dire wolf."

Leif raised one eyebrow and he really did begin contemplating if this child had it in him to be a knight. Could one of Sir Arthur's children really be made of soft cheese rather than hard stone like their father?

As they made it to the edge of the practice field and started approaching the other apprentices and a couple of squires, Irene saw Sir Gunnar at the front and she realized it was likely he who was overseeing practice. 

She avoided his eyes. Did he remember her from that day? She didn't want to give herself away. Iro wasn't supposed to know him. It was Irene who had been there when he broke the news about her father. 

Unfortunately, she wasn't so lucky.

"Iro," he called to her. "Step forward."

She did as requested. Although she felt shy, she still managed to lift her head up. That wasn't the place to be vulnerable. 

"Apprentices," he announced. "This is Iro, Sir Arthur's eldest son. He will be an apprentice from this day forward, proving himself just as all of you have been tasked to do. Here he will not give special treatment the same way none of you have either."

The boys nodded their heads in acknowledgment, but Irene knew scrutinizing eyes when she saw them. 

She was certainly the smallest, but she hoped that wasn't enough for the others to write her off. She was still fast and had decent reactions. 

"Now, line up," Sir Gunnar announced. "We will do sword drills and then get to a bit of sparring. I expect all of you to show Iro the strong foundation we've created in the Knights of Tenetium by having even our smallest force strong."

Irene had observed practices of this sort a million times before, it felt like. She gazed out the window and watched the knights warm up and then work on battle formations or simply spar so that they could continue to hone their abilities and work on their weak points. 

It was the first time she was in such a collaborative environment that wasn't because her father or brother were practicing with her. 

It was freeing. 

Upward strikes, alternating diagonal strikes, alternating side strikes, then turning to their left and right and parrying off of whoever was next to them. Dealer's choice of if they were be the striker or blocker which caused some interesting responses and a spontaneity that led to productive environment. If they were at the end of a row and had nobody next to them, they were still required to strike or block.

Shortly she was able to find where her father's obsession with tiring her out came from. The warm ups themselves were killer. Her shoulders and upper back were burning by the time she was finished. Even parts of her waist were fatigued, but she knew that it was far from over.

"It's still the warm season," Gunnar called out. "Make sure you're taking in water."

Irene looked around, realizing only then that all of the others had waterskins on them. She had one in her room, but she didn't think to grab it before that.

Someone else noticed her glancing around and Leif appeared in front of her. 

"You can have some of mine," he said. "Bring yours next time."

Irene nodded, grateful that someone had her back. She thanked him after taking only a small drink. 

The apprentices then knew that it was time to split off into two groups. They would then have short spars with whoever was on the opposite side. 

If they won the brief spar, there was no punishment. If they lost, they had to help the maids with breakfast.

Throughout the sparring, Irene's heart was already racing. She counted back however many places she was and saw the person she would be sparring with. He was certainly taller than her, but he had a bit of fat on him. She hoped that meant she was faster than him.

When it was her turn, the girl stepped forward with her wooden practice sword ready and her leather-gloved hand tightly gripping it, making sure she wouldn't drop it and embarrass herself. So far no one had been disarmed through the matches. She was unwilling to be the first. 

Her green eyes focused on her opponent. They tapped the tops of their swords together in a show of good sportsmanship and the other apprentice was immediately on offense as he began to circle her. 

"You're small," he said. 

Trash-talking seemed to be part of swordplay for those apprentices. She still tried not to say anything back.

The boy attacked, but Irene managed to dodge his forward thrust. He truly wasn't fast at all and she was going to use it to her advantage. 

She turned quickly and gave him a diagonal strike coming from her upper left side but she stopped it and changed direction. When he tried to block it with his sword, she used that moment to jab him in the ribs with her elbow. Even though his ribs were better protected than most, he still doubled over. 

Irene looked down at him with wide eyes. 

Does that mean it's over?

"Done," Gunnar announced. "Next!"

It was at that moment Irene's opponent decided to kick her in the back of the knee and cause one of her legs to collapse under her weight. She was immediately on her knee, with a gasp.

Her opponent laughed from behind her.

"Serves you right," he said. "Facing away from your opponent like a God damned moron."

"It was over—!"

From her opponent's line, someone walked forward and did the same to him that was done to her. The kid who knocked her down was soon in the dirt himself and his face was red.

"Why pick on the smallest when any of us could pick on you for being the ugliest?"

"Get back in line, Felix!" Gunnar ordered from the front. 

Irene's eyes widened as she observed a teenager a few years older than her smirking at his clever remark. She was silently grateful that he wasn't willing to single her out like the others were intent on doing. 

She managed to avoid breakfast duty but her pains weren't over that day.